The Art of Letting Go
by Jay1892
Summary: As far as he had known, Steve's super human abilities had been permanent. He always felt as though he were in tiptop condition, but things are changing. Finding himself starting to waste away as the serum that gave him strength steals it from him, Steve decides he can accept it and slip away unceremoniously. Not on Tony Stark's watch he won't. Tony/Steve


"What is it…?" Steve asked quietly, brows furrowing softly at man staring back at him among the paper. That man staring back at him was himself. There was the familiar hard line of his nose, the grey of his eyes, the gentle swoop of his pale hair.

"It's an IPhone," Mr. Stark replied, "Well… sort of an IPhone. I made a few tweaks here and there so I prefer to call it a SPhone." He raised his thick brows, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms over the top of it like he owned the thing.

"Isn't that illegal?" Dr. Banner inquired with a bit of an amused smile, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward on him.

"Not for Tony Stark it isn't." When you were a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist the average rules of life did not apply.

Steve picked up the thin phone in his hands from where it was nestled amidst a sea of dated newspapers. Of course Tony hadn't bothered to put the thing in a box let alone wrap it with actually wrapping paper. It was probably something he did five minutes before the guests started arriving. It was thin and delicate, clearly made out of glass. "What does it do?" Steve asked turning it over in his hands to find himself reflected in the other side of the device as well.

"It's more like was _doesn't_ it do." Tony replied, that cock smirk tugging up on his lips. "I've modified so it does just about everything and anything. It almost works like a little version of JARVIS. I call it JARVID, Just A Rather Very Intelligent Device. Tell it do something and it'll do it for you." Steve cocked one of his blonde brows in question. "Seriously, anything. Ask for directions, Google yourself, find a good schwarma joint…"

Steve's brows knit together once again and he looked down at the device, "Um… hello…?" He asked tentatively, feeling a bit embarrassed for talking to a bit of glass. A small beep reverberated somewhere from within the device and the screen came to life.

"JARVID voice recognition: Master Steve Rogers. How may I be of assistance, sir?" The little device spoke, the tone indeed bearing a striking resemblance to the intelligence system living in the walls of Stark Towers. A little boyish grin tugged on Steve's lips.

"The small mirror speaks!" Thor roared, hovering closely over Steve's shoulder to gaze upon the mysterious present. "What wonders this world holds…." He mused, eyes alight with fascination.

"Wow, that's uh… that's really something…" Steve said, blue eyes flickering up to where Tony was sitting across from him.

"Tony, I don't understand why you got him that. He's probably never going to use it." Natasha muttered from where she sat propped atop the arm of the couch, arms folded over his chest.

"Yeah," Clint agreed from where he stood close by. "No offense to the Cap, but he doesn't seem very tech savvy." There was no offense taken since this was a true fact. Having grown up and spent most of his life in the early 1900's, Steve wasn't used to the newfangled objects of 2012. He didn't need this stunning little system that Stark had bestowed upon him. All Steve needed was that old rotary phone hooked up in his studio apartment.

"Yeah, but with JARVID he won't even need to think about it. All he has to do is say what he wants it to do and it will do it. No buttons pressing or screen navigation required." Tony rebutted, trying to justify his choice in gift. "Here, watch this. JARVID?"

The device beeped, "JARVID voice recognition: Master Tony Stark. How may I be of assistance, sir?" The device inquired.

"Run program code: Noir-Oswald-Stark." Tony replied.

"Yes sir, running program." A brief moment passed before the room illuminated with a footage reel. But it wasn't just a projection on a screen, it was almost as if it were real. Steve was sitting right in the middle of the footage. Loud music blared through the device's speakers. Some man was screaming about a crazy train. It was most definitely a song that Steve was unfamiliar with. All around him were shots of Stark donned in his custom designed battle suit; the dashing gold and red armor flashing in the light of the sun. The entire reel was composed nothing, but Tony Stark flying around in said super suit blowing things up and defeating villains like he was the God of the universe.

"What sort of craft is this!" Thor demanded. "The device fills the room with images of companion Stark! How extraordinary!" Thor bellowed enthusiastically. He always seemed to be enthralled by the devices and systems that left the Stark laboratory.

Tony grinned broadly, "Pretty damn cool, right?" He sounded as satisfied- cocky- as always.

Steve gave his eyes a little roll, "Thanks Tony, It's uh… it's nice…" He said to be polite, even though he was sure the device would end up sitting on his dresser: unused and idle.

"No problem, Cap." Tony replied, shoving a handful of nearby pretzels in his gob. "Happy Birthday, man." He said through a mouthful of mushy, salty snack.

Yes, that's why this super team of Avengers had gathered together. Today was Steve Roger's birthday which coincidentally was also Independence Day. It was strangely ironic how America's first Avenger and the country itself shared the same day of birth. It was funny the way the fates of the universe weaved their web. So today Steve Rogers turned twenty-six, but considering he actually spent seventy years in suspended animation trapped under the ice of Northern Greenland he was actually ninety-six. He sometimes laughed at how gracefully he had aged.

It wasn't much of a party. Just a small gathering of a few close friends, a couple of pizzas from a joint down the street, and a bit of cake donned with red, white, and blue frosting. It was rather unceremonious, but that was just the way Steve preferred it. He was a rather unceremonious type of man. He slipped through the world seamlessly unlike one Mr. Stark. Tony was so much like his father. Steve could still remember the first time he had seen Howard Stark up on that stage at the World's Fair with his magical hover car, grabbing the show girls and planting solid, passionate kisses on their ruby painted lips. Both of them so confident in themselves, so satisfied with the things they created. Gods among men, as Steve sometimes thought what with their minds that stretched hundreds of years beyond the period they lived in. Oh how Steve's mind wandered sometimes. He feared that he had grown far too nostalgic in his old age.

Within a few more moments the reel of Tony faded away into chrome infused world of Stark Towers' penthouse suite. The man who shouted about the crazy train ceased to do so and the room faded into silence, save for the crunch and grind of Tony's teeth on the pretzels. "JARVID, assume hibernation mode." Tony commanded through his full mouth.

"As you wish, Master Stark. JARVID now assuming hibernation mode." The device beeped before all of its flashing lights powered down into darkness.

Steve stared at the blank screen a moment before leaning forward and placing his new gift on the coffee table in front of him among the other minor gifts he had received. A copy of _The Modern World_ from Natasha, an interchangeable pocket knife set from Clint, tickets to a WWII art exhibition from Bruce, and some sort of strange Asgardian statuette from Thor. "Thanks guys. This was… really nice. You didn't have to do anything for me." Steve said, leaning back in the arm chair he had been propped in and grinned shyly.

"Of course we did, companion Steve!" Thor thundered, giving the other man a strong smack to the back. That was probably meant to be more friendly than painful, but that man most definitely had a mean swing. "In Asgard, we celebrate the day of one's birth with a great feast and much dancing. It is a joyous occasion!"

Steve laughed a bit, pushing a hand through his sand colored hair, "Well, I don't need big feasts or dancing for my birthday. I'm fine with just this."

"You're so plain, Cap." Tony hummed, leaning forward for another handful of salty snacks. "You don't want anything big. No balloons, no confetti, no fireworks or parades. When it's my birthday, we party so hard that I usually end up waking up not even remembering what happened at the party. It's pretty intense." That didn't surprise Steve.

Steve shook his head at Tony's partying lifestyle. "I like remembering things that I do so that won't be necessary." And it wasn't like Steve could actually get drunk to the point where he couldn't remember what happened. Steve's metabolism worked so quickly that alcohol never lingered long enough to actually effect his mental state. He had tried several times to do so, but… each attempt had ended in failure. So Steve simply gave up trying and just faced life head on as best as he could. It was the best he could do.

"Oh, c'mon Cap," Tony said with an over dramatic sigh. "Take the stick out of your ass every once in a while, would you?" Tony barked.

"Tony!" Natasha hissed, ramming the heel of her hand into the back of Tony's skull to provide a clear warning that he really ought to keep his mouth shut and or think before he speaks.

Tony hissed in pain, hand reaching up the massage the sore spot pounding in his head "What…? I was only telling him to lighten up." The man whined in his defense.

"Well, there's a pretty big difference between telling someone to lighten up and being a jackass." Clint said sharply. Bruce chuckled a bit at Clint's words.

Steve sighed, "It's fine. Tony, just doesn't know how to accept any other lifestyle other than his own. Pretty closed minded to a genius, don't you think?" A small, satisfied smirk made an appearance on Steve's pale pink lips.

"Whoa, I'm sensing some sort of threatening atmosphere in here." Tony said, throwing his hands up in a sort of surrender. "What are you guys gonna do, beat me up for being honest?" He inquired, looking around the room. Tony searched the faces of his companions, waiting for an answer from someone. "Besides, the Cap knows I'm only kidding. Right, Cap?" The fact that Tony never referred to him as anything other than 'Cap' sometimes irritated Steven. He did have a name. He wasn't born with the name Captain America. Yes, Steve was very proud of his work in the army and would fight again in an instant, but… just sometimes he wanted to be Steve. Just Steve.

Steve blinked slowly, his blonde lashes sweeping over the blue of his eyes. "Yeah…" He replied, that little grin still on his face.

After a little bit more chatter and a couple more slices of forced down cake, the team bid their goodbyes to Steve and offered final wishes for a good birthday. Steve thanked them all for their gifts and their company like the polite man he had been raised to be. Not long after, Steve found himself alone in Stark Towers with the sole man that inhabited its halls. Mr. Stark's ever present assistant gone lover was no longer around. Tony's relationship with Pepper didn't last long. It was doomed from the start, in Steve's opinion. He may not have been an expert in relationships, but he could tell that Pepper Potts and Tony Stark were two opposites that could attract no longer.

"I should help you clean up…" Steve said quietly, hauling himself up from the chair he had been sitting in. He was surprised to find that a dull ache had seemed to settle into his joints. It was unusual for him as his body repaired itself constantly and aches and pains were not a normal occurrence. The only time he had actually felt sore in recent months was after the big smack down with the Asgardian God, Loki. But the pain quickly dulled by the next morning and he felt as fit and strong as ever…. Perhaps he had just been sitting for too long. Or maybe it was stress. Steve found himself having trouble sleeping as of late. He woke up a night in cold sweats, his bangs plastered to his forehead and the sheets around him damp with perspiration. But Steve just believed they were a result of some deep, inlaid nightmare he couldn't remember. He had seen a lot of traumatizing things in his day…. And there went his mind again, rambling and rolling like a snowball down a mountain side.

"Nah," Said Tony, waving the older man away. "The cleaning lady'll be here tomorrow. She'll handle it. Steve glanced around the room. There were still plates littered about covered in crumbs or unfinished pieces of pizza. Mugs of half drunken beer sat on the dark wood tables without the protection of coasters. There was a smudge of red and blue frosting from where Thor had accidentally dropped his slice of cake onto the carpet. "Don't worry, she's cleaned way worse." Steve didn't want to know what those worse things were.

"You don't really intend to leave the place like this until tomorrow, do you?" Asked Steve. Tony just raised his dark eyebrows, seemingly confused as to why leaving the mess was such a big deal. "Don't you feel bad? That poor woman is probably going to have to work herself to the bone to get his place clean."

"So?" Tony replied, giving his shoulders a little shrug. "She's a cleaning lady. She's paid to clean."

Steve gave an exasperated sigh, "That's… not the point…" he said. It really amazed Steve just how inconsiderate Tony Stark could be. But, then again, the man had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. He had no idea what it was like to struggle, what it was like to work hard every day just to be able to afford a decent meal. Tony Stark took everything around him for granted. He just let everything go without as much as a second thought…. "Well, if you won't clean up, I will." Steve shuffled about the room, picking up the abandoned plates and cups and bringing them to the trash can.

"You're such a goody-goody." Tony quipped, flopping down onto the couch and sprawling himself out in a most graceful manner. He had now grabbed a handful of Peanut M&Ms and was tossing them into his mouth as if it were some sort of carnival game.

"Nothing wrong with helping others." Steve quipped back, popping the trashcan open with his foot and disposing of the trash.

"You never let anything go." Said Tony, completely ignoring Steve's words and catching another M&M into his mouth. "Can't you just sit back and let everything take its course for once?"

Steve rolled his eyes, "No I can't, sorry to disappoint you." As Steve started placing empty mugs in the sink something inside his chest tightened like wire: sharp and suffocating. The sensation caused Steve to choke on the sharp intake of, fist coming up to block a fit of coughs that soon followed.

Tony sat up from where he had been sprawled across the sofa, another M&M being crushed between his teeth. "You alright there, Cap?" He asked, a mild concern washing over his rugged features.

Within a few moments the fit had passed and Steve was able to catch his breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just swallowed wrong…" Steve dismissed, hands returning to the sink so the mugs could be cleaned of their contents. Had had returned his hands to the water so quickly that Steve didn't even notice the small smear of red that circled the drain before disappearing into the bowels of Stark Towers.

**Oh my God, I'm such a terrible person. I cannot believe I'm doing this, but I'm starting another fanfiction. Feel free to throw bricks at my head, I deserve it. So, I've recently gotten into Marvel and the Avengers (Because the movie was quite possibly one of the best movies I've ever seen) and with that Tony Stark/Steve Rogers AKA Ironman/Captain America. So yeah, this is little fanfiction about then that will only be a few chapters long at most. **


End file.
